Chapter 149: Even a Nouveau Riche Counts as High Nobility? Hah! That’s Just Hilarious!

Translation by: Weebsread👹

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As usual, the matter had come down to taxes.

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The tax collector dabbed sweat from his brow, facing the young woman’s unyielding glare as she pressed him with pointed questions.

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He’d seen this a thousand times before. All noble ladies were the same—cut from identical cloth.

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Just like the former governor’s daughter, years ago, when she’d followed her father on his rural inspections. She’d wept for the peasants, forced to labor beneath the burning sun, and ordered the court mage to cast cooling spells for their relief.

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But when she returned home? That moment of charity was left behind, fading as quickly as it had flared.

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It was never truly about helping the commoners; the young mistress’s heart was simply too tender to bear suffering when it was laid out before her eyes. Once absent from its sight, compassion vanished with it.

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And this princess mage standing before him? He doubted she was any different.

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“Ahem… Regarding the taxes—each lord adjusts the rates according to local needs,” he replied, choosing his words carefully.

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“It’s not as though we’re violating imperial statutes. Every levy is accounted for through proper channels, I assure you.”

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Annoying though her questions might be, it was his duty as tax collector to resolve such issues.

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He searched for the best excuse and soon grasped one.

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“You see, this village lies near the border. Maintaining adequate defenses here is a burden on our resources. Without raising taxes, we simply couldn’t cover the cost of garrisoning troops. If Your Highness feels there is a problem, you are welcome to present your case to the Governor in the city.”

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“As for the wounded—once tax collection has concluded, I will ensure that aid reaches the injured. Their care will not be neglected.”

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“And let’s not forget—this territory belongs to an eminent noble of the Imperial Capital, whose fiftieth birthday approaches. The tax payments are vital for the festivities. If we fail to deliver the funds on time, the entire banquet would be thrown into chaos.”

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He cobbled together that last excuse—what he really wanted was a subtle reminder: this land belonged to one of the Empire’s most exalted houses.

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He sized up the noblewoman in front of him. She might persist out of naïve kindness, but the young man at her side—that one would certainly understand the message.

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After all, anyone chosen to escort a noble lady surely wasn’t some fool. The head of a respected household would never entrust her to a dullard.

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“A high noble, are you?”

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But this time, the tax collector’s assumptions were dashed.

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Lin Wei, picking up on the veiled threats beneath those words, simply feigned ignorance.

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“Our Princess’s status is far above that—even the Holy See must show her respect.”

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“In that case,” he continued without missing a beat, “I would truly like to know: which of the Empire’s supposed ‘great nobles’ is so heartless as to prioritize his own birthday celebration over the suffering of his people? To throw a lavish banquet at their expense—is that the act of a true aristocrat?”

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Now, with someone finally standing up to the tax officials—someone of equal rank to the so-called high nobility—hope began to flicker in the villagers’ eyes. Helpless before, they now looked upon their champion with renewed gratitude, sensing that at last someone genuinely stood on their side.

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Yet for one in the crowd, the mounting tension was becoming almost unbearable.

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Iresha, standing off to the side in her usual air of cool detachment, felt her composure start to crack.

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Even the Holy See defers to me? When did I get so important?

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To tell the truth, her kingdom—Silver Harbor—had fallen over a decade ago. The Holy See and the Empire kept a watchful eye on her, yes, but it certainly wasn’t because she still held her old throne.

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Lin Wei delivered these words as if they were the absolute, unquestionable truth—but Iresha had no idea what he was plotting next.

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After a moment’s thought, she decided the best course was to play along for now.

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She’d continue the charade, embracing the role of a princess of exceptional privilege and influence—and wait to see what he was really planning.

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“I...”

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Lin Wei's unexpected response left Kast momentarily speechless, his retorts caught in his throat. Wasn’t this the perfect moment to go along with the show, toss out official platitudes, end things smoothly so the “princess” would leave satisfied and the dispute would be closed?

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Why did it feel like this man had no intention of taking the easy path?

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He’d seemed reasonable at first, but perhaps he was just another stubborn hothead, unable to read the room.

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“My advice? You’d best not press further,” the official warned, squaring his shoulders and eyeing Iresha cautiously. Even as a seasoned Imperial aristocrat, he sensed there was no room left for negotiation.

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“The person in question ranks among the Empire’s highest nobles. As Princess and mage of the Hero’s Party, Miss Iresha, you’re bound to cross such figures again in the future.”

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He drew a steady breath, choosing his words with care. “What’s happened here has clearly upset Your Highness, and for that we apologize. Might I suggest we step aside—please, allow me to present a detailed list of the taxes for you to review. If anything is unclear, I can explain matters right here and now.”

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He offered the deepest bow he could muster. “If we keep delaying, the taxes will go uncollected and the wounded may not receive prompt aid. Surely, Your Highness would not wish to see that happen?”

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A final gambit, offering Iresha a gracious way out, and preserving her dignity.

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True, she was a princess, and equally true, she was the Hero’s Party mage.

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But everyone knew those titles carried little real weight—there was a limit to how far courtesy would bend for her.

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“Before Her Highness arrived, we had already handed out healing potions to the villagers.”

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“We don’t need empty charity. What I want to know is—who dares trample the law in such broad daylight?” Lin Wei said.

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“You...”

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But offered this last chance, they still refused to yield.

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They had interrupted tax collection in public, obstructed official proceedings, and shown no deference to anyone present.

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With Lin Wei refusing to back down, the tax official’s expression soured.

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So you want to play hardball? Don’t blame me for what comes next.

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“This land... belongs to Duke Ous.”

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He dropped his voice, so only the three of them could hear—a final, veiled warning.

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He’d tried to protect the princess’s reputation, to soften his words and give her every opportunity to withdraw gracefully.

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But with matters at an impasse, subtlety was no longer an option. He had to invoke the Duke’s name and put them in their place.

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In the end, swallowing his pride, he withdrew with whatever dignity he could salvage.

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“Oh? So this territory actually belongs to...”

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Lin Wei’s voice was the picture of innocent surprise, but inwardly, energy crackled through him.

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Countless scattered clues snapped into place. At that single name, the mystery resolved—the full picture coming together in his mind.

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Duke Ous.

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So it truly is his domain.

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At this very moment, the Duke was still residing at the Tribunal—and coincidentally, that was precisely when the demons struck.

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Given the timing, it would be difficult for anyone to connect the attack to him.

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After all, when you’re under Holy See interrogation or even locked up, any sensible man would lie low.

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But Duke Ous had done just the opposite. Which only made it easier for people to believe the timing was sheer coincidence.

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But what was his real aim?

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Was it about taxes? Was he using this village to make an example—to terrify other villages into compliance?

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Lin Wei’s thoughts spun as the puzzle assembled itself piece by piece.

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Of course. The Empire was enjoying peace, and tax collection was no longer as effortless as in the old days. The process had become much more difficult.

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If taxes couldn’t be collected here, unrest would inevitably follow.

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Knowing Duke Ous’s temperament... if things didn’t go his way, he’d escalate.

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He’d raze the village entirely, make an example out of it, and let every other dubious territory witness exactly what it meant to lose the Empire’s protection.

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"Pfft..."

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Just as Lin Wei readied himself to cry the Duke’s name aloud—ready to stir up even more suspicion—

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A barely stifled laugh burst from behind him.

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Startled, Lin Wei turned. Iresha—whose regal mask had been so perfectly composed a moment before—stood there, eyes gleaming, shoulders quaking.

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Their eyes met for just a fraction of a second, then she clapped a hand over her mouth, pulled up her hood, and dissolved into fits of laughter.

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She crouched right there, shoulders shaking, unable to contain her mirth.

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"Ahahahaha!"

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“A so-called top-tier noble... Duke Ous?”

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“This is killing me... I wondered who the mysterious patron behind this territory could be. Duke Ous—oh gods, you have no idea how ridiculous that is!”

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Had they not been surrounded by so many onlookers, Lin Wei was certain she would have rolled on the ground, shrieking with laughter.

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“Your Highness, Princess?”

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But what on earth could be so amusing?

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Lin Wei watched as she forced herself upright, still barely suppressing another outburst.

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“S-sorry. You probably don’t understand, but that was simply... too funny to hold back.”

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She pursed her lips, fighting back another wave of laughter. Noticing Lin Wei’s confusion, she drew a calming breath and tried to explain.

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“The Ous family—the House of Randall, as they style themselves—used to be impoverished viscounts on the frontier, barely a hundred years ago. To survive, they were forced to move to the Imperial Capital.”

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“And then, by complete accident, the Randall patriarch happened to catch the eye of the Empress—the so-called ‘Queen of Thorns’—at a banquet. She ruled the empire at the time.”

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Even recounting this, Iresha doubled over again, stifling fresh laughter.

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“With not a single merit or accomplishment to his name, he rode his bedroom talents from viscount straight to duke! Not one of the old aristocracy in the capital truly accepted them. They don’t even hold a seat on the High Council!”

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“Upjumped provincials who dare parade themselves as grand nobility... pfft, I’ve never seen thicker skin in my life!”

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“Forget competing with the Empire’s Three Dukes or Five Marquises—even the oldest barons look down on them. It’s pure farce!”

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Her composure collapsed entirely under another wave of laughter.

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Lin Wei, standing quietly at the side, was perplexed at first—but as she spoke, something dawned within him. So that’s why Duke Ous is always striving with such desperation to rise above his station—his family’s legacy is nothing but shame.

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Thinking on it, he realized he knew next to nothing of the Empire’s subtler power struggles. He’d have to hunt down someone in the know for more information.

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“So... the so-called ‘top-tier noble’ is Duke Ous? In the end, he’s just another nouveau riche clinging to power in the capital, desperate for crumbs.”

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Well, since the subject was out, Lin Wei couldn’t resist twisting the knife, fanning the embers of scorn.

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The tax collector’s face had gone corpse-gray, his mouth agape, stunned by the insult.

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Lin Wei’s cold snort cut through the air; he fixed the man with a direct, unflinching stare, utterly at ease.

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“For nobles of that kind? Even Her Highness need not show them any courtesy at all.”

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“As for the taxes—if you have grievances, go to your Governor. When I have the time, we can discuss the matter. For now, all tax collection is suspended. Understood?”

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“And the rest of you—be gone.”

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He didn’t bother to mask the contempt in his voice as he dismissed them all. Then, glancing toward Iresha, his tone softened a shade.

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“Your Highness, with demon attacks breaking out nearby, this village is no longer safe.”

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“Why don’t we go to the teleportation array and regroup with the others? Once things have calmed down in a day or two, we’ll return and finish settling these affairs together. How does that sound?”